


Whoops

by sweetpeater



Category: Captain America (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Accidental Marriage, Drinking, M/M, Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Swearing, can super soldiers get drunk??, lets pretend they can, ~~provocative dancing~~
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-06
Updated: 2014-10-06
Packaged: 2018-02-20 02:07:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,941
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2411000
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sweetpeater/pseuds/sweetpeater
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The time Bucky and Steve got married. Or, Don't Ever Play Truth or Dare With Tony Stark.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Whoops

**Author's Note:**

> If it isn't clear enough (sorry, I'm new to slash fics), Bucky and Steve are not in a relationship at the beginning of the fic.

Bucky takes another swig from the bottle of Jack Daniels. “Alright, Tony. Pick someone.”  
Tony’s appraising gaze sweeps the room. “Steve. Truth or dare?”  
Steve thinks for a moment. “Dare.” Natasha cringes.  
Tony laughs. “Alright, I’ve got this. Steve, I dare you....to take Bucky to a gay bar.”  
Bucky chokes. Steve stares back at Tony, unfazed. By this point, Steve has already downed eight and a half bottles of beer and is slightly buzzed. He gulps down his ninth beer. “Alright. Bucky, let’s go.”  
Bucky allows himself to be pulled to his feet. “What the hell?”  
“We’re going to a gay bar,” Steve replies nonchalantly. “Go put on something nice.”  
Ten minutes later, Bucky emerges from the bedroom dressed in skinny jeans and a white V-neck tee shirt. Steve swallows and wills his mind to go somewhere, anywhere else. “Alright, let’s get going. Tony, lead the way.”

Tony maps out the fastest route to a nightclub near the tower. When they’re ushered in, nobody’s ID is checked.  
The club is relatively dim, with neon flashing lights and pulsating music. “This isn’t what I expected.” Steve remarks.  
“You haven’t been to a bar since 1945, what did you expect?” Natasha pipes up. Steve shrugs.  
They make their way to a large corner booth and slide in. A minute passes before someone breaks the silence. “Now what do we do?” Clint asks, tapping his fingers on the table.  
Bucky, who has long since passed the point of pleasantly buzzed and crossed into hiccuping drunk, stands up. “Well, I’m gonna go dance. Steve, care to join me?” He holds out a hand, swaying slightly from side to side.  
Steve hesitates. “Bucky, I don’t know how to dance, remember?” That was a lie.  
Bucky snorts. “Not that kind of dancing, Rogers.” He grabs Steve’s hand and pulls him up. “C’mon, don’t be a killjoy. I’ll show you what to do.”  
Before the rest of the gang knows it, Steve and Bucky have disappeared. 

The beat thumps in Steve’s chest. He can barely hear what Bucky’s trying to tell him.   
“See what all these other people’re doing? I wanna do that.” Bucky shouts over the music. Steve looks around. Couples are swaying quickly, backsides pressed to fronts, and some are grinding against each other. He swallows. “Alright.”  
Bucky swings around and presses his backside into Steve. “Grab my hips,” he yells. Steve does, awkwardly pressing his fingers into Bucky’s sides. Suddenly, Bucky is grinding into him. Steve’s eyes grow wider as Bucky’s ass presses into his crotch. He lets Bucky grind up and down, but after a minute, he can’t take any more. He flips Bucky around to face him. Bucky looks up at him, confusion flitting across his face. Steve bends down and nips at his earlobe, and the confusion is gone.   
Steve could do this all day. Bucky’s stubble rubs against his cheek as he kisses and sucks his way down Bucky’s jaw. Bucky lets out a strangled gasp when Steve bites at a spot behind his ear.   
Someone’s beside them, then, clearing their throat. Steve’s head whips around and sees Natasha frowning at them, eyebrow raised.   
Bucky quickly pulls away from Steve, running a hand through his long hair. His face is almost the same color as Natasha’s hair. “Um, that wasn’t what it looked like”  
She rolls her eyes. “Whatever. We ordered some food, just to let you know.”  
Steve nods. “Okay. I was gonna grab us a booth for ourselves. Y’know, to avoid the teasing for now.”  
Natasha raises an eyebrow again. “Okay. Suit yourselves.” She’s walking away before Steve can reply. He turns around and Bucky’s waving him over. 

They’re sitting in a little booth across from each other. Bucky shifts awkwardly in his seat, fidgeting with the little umbrella in his drink. Finally, he speaks up. “What the hell happened earlier?” He sips at the margarita in his hands. “Wait, no. I’m not nearly drunk enough to have this conversation.” He downs the rest of the drink in a few seconds and flags the waitress down. “Two Jacks, please. On the rocks.”  
Steve scoffs when she’s gone. “You think that’s what I want?”  
Bucky shrugs. “You had the chance to change it. You didn’t. Must be what you want.” The waitress comes back with the drinks after the words are out. Stacy, her nametag reads.   
Steve picks up his glass and gulps half of it in one go. “We can have this conversation later.”

About half an hour later, they’ve both had two glasses of whiskey. Bucky’s on his first bottle of beer, and Steve’s on his third.   
“Man, Stevie, man, you’re too great.” Bucky slurs.  
Steve laughs. “Yeah, you too, I mean, of course. Yeah.” That must have been the funniest thing in the world, because they’re both laughing hysterically when the man approaches their table.  
The stranger pulls a chair up to the edge of the table. “Evening, gentlemen.”  
Steve starts and nods. “Hi.”  
Bucky grins, wide and sloppy. “Hey there. Want a drink?”  
The man laughs. He’s relatively young, can’t be older than 25. “No thank you. I’m sworn off.”  
Steve frowns. “How come?”  
“I’m a minister. Haven’t had a drop of alcohol in over three months” The man extends his hand to Steve. “Father Jack Herald.”  
Steve shakes his hand firmly. “Steve Rogers. And this is James Barnes.” Bucky shakes Father Herald’s hand as well.   
Herald squints. “Captain America and Sergeant Barnes?”  
Bucky nods. “In the flesh. And metal.”  
“Well, I’ll be. It is an honor to meet you.” Herald grins.   
An idea pops into Bucky’s head at that moment. “Hey, is it legal for two men to get married?”  
Herald frowns. “Yeah, why?”  
Bucky grins again, this time directed at Steve. “Let’s get married.”  
Steve chokes on his drink. “What? Why?”  
Bucky frowns. “Why the hell not? I love you.”  
There’s radio silence from Steve for a full thirty seconds. His expression is unreadable. Then, “Okay.”  
Bucky blinks. “Let’s get this show on the road, then.”

 

Bucky wakes up shivering. His mouth feels like it’s stuffed with cotton, and his entire body aches. Light assaults his eyes when he opens them. He shuts them as quickly as possible, then snaps them open again.  
He’s wearing a dress.  
He sits up. The fabric seems to be some sort of cheap taffeta look-alike with a few layers of tulle underneath. The sleeves are short. He tries to get up from his awkward position on the floor and look in a mirror. There aren’t any mirrors, wherever they are. He realizes, at that moment, that he’s not in his apartment. He’s in a hotel room in god-knows-where.  
There are two beds, both full of people. Natasha, Clint, and Tony are squeezed into the first, and Steve is sprawled out on top of Sam. Steve’s wearing a tuxedo, Bucky notices. Suddenly, Bucky’s head is pounding. He leans on the nearest solid object. In the corner, Sam begins to stir. “The hell...ugh. Barnes, come get this ugly lug off me.”  
Bucky grabs Steve’s leg and pulls him off the bed. He lands with an undignified “oof” and comes to. By the time Bucky turns around, Natasha and Clint are both standing.   
“How’s the hangover, Barnes? Nice makeup, by the way.” Natasha quips, adjusting her shirt.  
Bucky scowls at her, but turns his attention to the man on the floor in front of him. He’s staring up at Bucky, looking somewhat pathetic.   
“What? What happened? I feel like death.” Steve groans, pushing himself into a sitting position.   
Sam whistles. “Captain America with a hangover. Will the miracles ever stop?”  
Steve rather eloquently displays his feelings about the statement with a single finger. He turns his attention back to Bucky. “Why are you wearing a wedding dress, Buck? And what’s with your face?”  
“I have no fucking clue.” Bucky replies, scrubbing a hand down his face. “Is there a bathroom around here?”  
Natasha points to a door on the other side of the room. “Over there, just don’t use all the soap.”  
Bucky heads for the bathroom and shuts the door, locking it behind him. He finally turns to look in the mirror.   
“Oh, fuck.”  
Red lipstick is smeared all over his chin and mouth. There’s a bit of purple eyeshadow smattered around his eyes. A veil is hanging off of his head at an awkward angle.  
He sits on the closed toilet seat and rubs his forehead. “What the hell happened last night?” he muttered to himself. Worry about that later, Barnes. he thinks. Right now, get that shit off your face and find some clothes.  
Fifteen minutes of vigorous scrubbing and a vicious fight with a tangle of tulle later, he’s emerging from the bathroom. He still had his boxers on under the dress (thank God). “Anyone got any clothes I can borrow? Like, a shirt at the very least.”  
Sam tosses a sweatshirt at him. “Might not fit, but it’s worth a shot.”  
“Thanks.” He pulls the sweatshirt over his head. A little small, but it will work for the time being. “Alright, before we go anywhere, I wanna know what the hell happened and why I was wearing a wedding dress.”  
The newly conscious Tony gestures between Steve and Bucky. “I believe you two lovebirds got hitched.”  
Bucky blinks and Steve freezes. “Come again?”  
“A minister came along and you insisted on getting married. It was all Bucky’s idea.” Natasha supplies, picking up some loose papers that were on the floor and handing them to Bucky. The page on the top of the pile is a certificate of marriage.  
Bucky frowns. “So, we’re legally married.” He lifts up his left hand and almost doesn’t see the little silver band on his ring finger.  
Steve is looking at his hand, too. “I guess.”  
“Congratulations. Today begins the honeymoon phase. Please stay approximately two thousand feet away from me until it’s out of your system.” Tony remarks. Bucky throws a pillow at his head.  
Natasha, Clint, and Sam have left, and Tony follows them out of the room. Steve’s still wearing the tux.   
“I just have one more question. Why was I the bride?” Bucky asks, making a face.  
Steve shrugs. “I assume it’s because you have the long hair. And you’re pretty.”  
Bucky scowls and picks up the certificate again. “Mr. and Mr. Barnes. Hah. Well, looks like you took my last name, anyways.”  
Steve hums. “Lucky me.”  
Bucky’s mind is racing. He wants so badly to grab Steve and kiss him like there’s no tomorrow.   
Fuck it, he thinks.  
He sets the paper down on the table and walks over to Steve. “I do remember what happened on the dance floor, though.”  
Steve turns a deep crimson. “Yeah? Well, I kinda remember.”  
“Uh huh, and that’s why you’re redder than Nat’s hair right now.” Bucky snarks, punching Steve in the shoulder. “I just want you to know that I don’t regret it.”  
Steve turns to face him. “You don’t?”  
Bucky shakes his head. “Not one bit.” He slides closer to Steve. Their lips are centimeters apart. “In fact, I’d like to do it again sometime. Preferably soon.”  
Steve pulls him in for a crushing kiss. Their lips slide together, hot and wet and everything Bucky ever wanted. He curls a hand around Steve’s neck, and feels Steve’s hand sliding underneath his sweatshirt to caress the small of his back. Bucky catches Steve’s lower lip between his teeth, and Steve moans softly. It feels like ages before they break apart, gasping for air.   
“So that’s that, then.” Steve murmurs.  
Bucky smiles against his lips. “That’s that.”


End file.
